


7 days

by Sierra



Category: Free!
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Candles, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon, an expensive-shoe-eating dobermann, rin and haru cameos, tags to change, there will be smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-26 20:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7588732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sierra/pseuds/Sierra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So we made an agreement that if I found something I wanted later, he’d get it for me,” Sousuke finishes. His eyes haven’t moved from Makoto yet, still intent. “Even if it <i>was</i> five months later. Guess I should thank Rin.”</p><p>(OR: Sousuke learns to be careful what he wishes for.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. rewind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ishka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishka/gifts).



> this started off as a smut-filled one-shot and ended up something else entirely, so. sorry.
> 
> fair warning: the smut in later chapters is beyond the realm of kinky and vanilla but tags will be updated as it goes along. the titles are absolutely not taken from a 2000 craig david album. nup.

“Anyway,” Rin announces, rising with both palms flat on the table, “it’s been great, guys.” He cuts them a salute Makoto thinks he might have learned from one of Sousuke’s _Rambo_ movies—and while he can’t begin to guess which, since Sousuke owns the entire collection and runs marathons for Rin bi-annually, it’s probably _First Blood_. It’s Rin’s favourite, and Makoto has lent a sympathetic ear to Haru on more than one occasion when it comes to their shared training quarters and the abundance of _Rambo_ paraphernalia.

Sousuke raises an eyebrow and drops his chopsticks back into the bowl of udon. He’s across the table from Rin and Makoto, seated beside Haru, and he slouches back with folded arms. “You going somewhere? It’s still early.”

“And it’s still his birthday,” Haru adds, around a mouthful of noodles. “Shouldn’t you be milking this, Rin?”

“Some of us still _train_ on Sundays,” Rin snaps back. “The pool is always packed tighter than a sardine tin by six. Besides, I wanna get some sleep. It’s already past nine. You better not wake me up, Haru.”

“Living on the edge,” Sousuke says, smirking. “You just get more daring the older you get.”

Haru nods his agreement without looking away from his food.

The annoyance radiating from Rin is enough to at least keep Makoto warm, since Sousuke hadn’t thought to book them a table close to braziers. It’s early February and it’s freezing, but Sousuke doesn’t feel the cold, as evident by the t-shirt he’s wearing, unaffected by the chill of the air. Makoto wonders if the way Sousuke has tucked his hands underneath his biceps is on purpose, because it’s distracting him. Even preoccupied with three different mackerel dishes, Haru will notice Makoto’s attention starting to wander sooner or later.

“See?” Sousuke asks with a grin that’s lazy and slow. “Makoto’s probably thinking it, too.”

“I _wasn’t_ ,” Makoto protests. “If Rin wants to go home and rest, he should—hey, wait a—”

Rin’s standing, but that doesn’t prevent him from finding a way to kick Sousuke under the table. Without flinching, Sousuke aims one back at Rin’s calf, causing the table to jolt and Makoto’s glass to tip over. A slow trickle of plum wine stops short of Haru’s wrist, and Makoto stifles a sigh and the urge to sink down in his seat.

Rin huffs and tugs at the collar of his fur-lined jacket to straighten it out. “Training is way more important than hanging around you, Sousuke. And I get enough of Haru at home.” He grimaces, and casts an apologetic look at Makoto. “I’m not talking about you, though.”

Makoto smiles and gives Rin’s hip a gentle nudge. “I know. Nobody will hold it against you if you want to call it a night. Your training is important. Right?” he says, with a sharp glance at the others.

Sousuke scoffs under his breath and his gaze drops, and Haru just shrugs. It’s as close as it gets to affirmation with either of them, and Makoto and Rin both know it with the exasperated look they exchange.

Rin claps a hand down on Makoto’s shoulder and squeezes as he slides out of his seat. Despite the bickering, Sousuke holds out a fist and Rin meets it with his own, and a declaration of war on Haru if he climbs in through the window again tipsy on shochu.

Then he’s gone, and Makoto settles more comfortably into the space left behind. He starts to ask if Haru wants dessert, reading aloud from the menu Rin had insisted stay at the table in the event of a last-minute change of heart, when he notices the sudden, calculating way Sousuke is regarding him from under lowered lids, light from the restaurant’s interior playing over his face.

Makoto returns the look questioningly. “Do you want green tea ice cream, too? I thought it was too sweet for you.”

“It is,” Sousuke says dryly. “But I decided what I want for my birthday.”

Haru reaches for the menu and Makoto hands it over. “That was five months ago.”

“Yes,” Makoto answers in an equally dry tone. Sousuke might think the shift in his expression is subtle but Makoto is familiar with what the tilt of his head means, the crease at one side of his mouth. “But when I asked about presents, he couldn’t come up with anything.”

“And?” Haru presses, eyes flicking over the back of the menu. He doesn’t seem especially invested in the conversation or the desserts.

“So we made an agreement that if I found something I wanted later, he’d get it for me,” Sousuke finishes. His eyes haven’t moved from Makoto yet, still intent. “Even if it _was_ five months later. Guess I should thank Rin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr](http://sierrasuke.tumblr.com/) ◇ [twitter](https://twitter.com/sierrasuke)
> 
> thanks for reading! feedback is always loved and appreciated. update schedule approx once every 5 days.


	2. last night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One dog, six candles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [craig david - last night](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bq7zNX72m6I) for a cool hip hop vibe.

* * *

 

It takes an argument over the last scoop of ice cream, an impromptu spoon-fight that ends with mint green spatters on Sousuke’s t-shirt, and Haru and Sousuke trying to jostle each other out of the booth with elbows in ribs and shoulders bumping for Makoto to decide it’s time to call it a night.

He settles the bill while Sousuke and Haru settle the matter of whose turn it is to spot Rin at training tomorrow afternoon. Makoto signs the receipt as Sousuke loses a round of janken (again), and he folds the ends of his scarf into his coat, wondering when Haru picked up on Sousuke’s hopelessness at the game and decided to use it to his advantage. They’ve seen Rin flatten Sousuke at janken enough to puzzle over why Sousuke accepts the challenge, given his losing streak is going on four-years strong with no end in sight.

It could be stubborn pride or just such a time-honoured tradition of Sousuke and Rin’s friendship that neither of them is willing to give it up even when the results are always the same. Personally, Makoto would get tired of winning constantly but it’s in Rin’s nature to covet _any_ kind of victory, even one so seemingly insignificant as beating his rather predictable best friend at a game Makoto and Haru grew out of at the first sign of chest hair (which Rin then insisted they wax off in the name of aerodynamics).

Ever the graceful loser, Sousuke only swipes Haru’s beanie from him once and holds it out of Haru’s reach before Makoto puts a stop to it. He snatches the beanie from Sousuke, drags it back down over Haru’s head, adjusts it so it’s not obscuring his eyes, and wraps him into a hug. Sousuke seems to decide the spat over ice cream isn’t worth missing the chance to envelope Makoto and Haru in his arms. Haru’s protests at the extra squeeze are muffled into the front of Makoto’s coat, indecipherable.

“I don’t think he’s enjoying that,” Makoto comments, loosening his own grip so Haru can suck in a breath and glower at Sousuke.

Sousuke grins back. “I can let go any second, Haru.”

Haru just tucks his face sideways against Makoto’s coat, lips pursed. “It’s not bad.”

 

* * *

 

They part ways with Haru once Makoto has convinced Sousuke to extract himself from the group-hug by reminding him that it’s been almost five hours since the dog was let out of her crate. It must stir the memory of the last time Sousuke talked Makoto into staying out a little later than normal because it’s the fastest Makoto has ever seen Sousuke turn away from an opportunity to smother Haru.

In her boredom, Mishka worked out how to get her paw through the mesh wiring and dragged one half of Sousuke’s prized Reeboks close enough to get at the laces. By the time Sousuke rescued the shoe from her, it was in tatters.

Sousuke’s attempt to ban her from the bed lasted all of one night before Makoto took pity on her forlornly staring at them from the floor, head drooping and eyes mournful, and overruled it. He’d warned Sousuke about Dobermanns and their high stimulation needs, but talking Sousuke out of a three-month old puppy with one floppy ear and a particularly cute head-tilt at the shelter was like trying to squeeze water from a rock.

Sousuke walks alongside him in comfortable silence, fingers twined through Makoto’s gloved ones. Dinnertime conversation takes more out of Sousuke than he’ll readily admit. He needs a while to recover, and Makoto is happy to give it.

There was a time early in their relationship when Haru and Sousuke had trouble even sitting at the same table during their midweek meals with Rin, and the progress they’ve made since impresses no one more than Makoto. He makes allowances for the small things because Sousuke gives nothing less than his all when it comes to what’s important to Makoto. He squeezes Sousuke’s fingers at the thought and gets one in return, quiet and assured.

The apartment is as warm as it was when they left. Makoto sighs in contentment as he peels off first his gloves, then his coat, and unwinds his scarf. Sousuke doesn’t seem to register the change in temperature, still occasionally giving him that same look from earlier out the corner of his eye before he disappears into the living room.

A moment later, Mishka comes bounding in with her stuffed monkey in her mouth, trailed by Sousuke. He tugs at the hem of his shirt, eyeing the ice cream stain, then shrugs and drags a hand through his hair.

Makoto throws his coat over the rack and hangs his scarf well out of the reach. Sousuke settles on the arm of the couch to brace himself as Mishka engages him in a tug-of-war with the monkey, growling playfully.

“Are you going to tell me what you want me to buy for you, or do I have to guess again? I’m not very good at that.”

“Want the good news or the bad news?” Sousuke snaps his fingers with a _drop it_ and Mishka lets go of the monkey. She backs up a few steps, one ear perked as the other flops over her face, her stare intent and zoned in on the one-eyed, three-limbed toy in Sousuke’s hand.

That kind of focus can only be observed in one Matsuoka Rin. It would be enviable if Makoto had pursued a career in swimming after highschool, but after seeing for himself how much of Rin’s life is dictated by his demanding schedule and the constraints around what he eats and how late he stays out, Makoto is kind of glad the competitive streak Haru and Rin share never ran hot in his blood and that Sousuke had the sense to hang up his cap and goggles after they graduated.

“Both?” Makoto says, sidestepping when Sousuke flings the toy down the length of the hallway. Mishka barrels past him with a high-pitched bark, skidding on the tile as she rounds the corner. “Good first.”

Sousuke pushes off the arm of the couch. “Good news is you don’t have to actually buy anything. I’m not into materialistic things.”

Makoto can’t disagree. The sweater he bought for Sousuke last Christmas—after seeing him point it out at a shopping centre, seemingly taken with the mirrored reindeer design and a bit amused with the placement of twin red noses where nipples ought to be—is still folded up in the back of Sousuke’s wardrobe. He doesn’t have to physically check to know the tag is still attached, much like a lot of other things he’s bought as gifts for Sousuke that either end up unused or randomly materialise in Rin and Haru’s apartment three to six months later when Sousuke thinks Makoto won’t notice. The custom-made watchband from two and a half years ago is easily two sizes too big for Rin’s wrist, the dark blue polo he wore to dinner a few weeks ago was bordering on mid-thigh length, and most recently Haru sent Makoto pictures of the Dobermann calendar that now has a home on Rin’s bedroom wall.

Makoto keeps track of everything apart from anniversaries because that’s something neither of them feel strongly about. He has the date written down somewhere, probably hidden away in a letter he wrote to Sousuke in the summer after highschool in a rather vain bid to maintain contact when Sousuke moved back to Tokyo for a few months to help out with his family’s business.

It worked—to a rather one-sided extent—for Sousuke and Rin’s friendship when an ocean spanned between them, but trying to emulate it left Makoto frustrated and at a loss. Penning a letter to someone he knew well like Haru was one thing, and putting his thoughts on paper to an almost-stranger like Sousuke was entirely another. It resulted in nothing but an overflowing wastepaper basket and Makoto no closer to bridging a physical gap complicated by a more physical _longing_.

“You listening?”

“Yeah, just…thinking.” Makoto makes a point of not rolling his eyes to the ceiling and accepts the loose arm Sousuke slings around his neck. “What’s the bad news? If I don’t have to spend more money on things you don’t want or need, it can’t be that bad,” he says with a teasing smile, resting a hand over Sousuke’s chest, careful to bypass the stain.

“The bad news,” Sousuke answers as Mishka noses at Makoto’s hip with the monkey dangling from her mouth, “is we’re gonna need at least six candles.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr](http://sierrasuke.tumblr.com/) ◇ [twitter](https://twitter.com/sierrasuke)
> 
>  [mishka](http://www.charlottereeves.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2010/08/IMG_4676-1.jpg)
> 
> next chapter is where the nsfw fun begins...so please check the tags for possible overly-kinky content when it rolls around. 
> 
> comments/feedback is always encouraged, as is general screaming @ me about pairings and headcanons on twitter or tumblr. thanks for reading!


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